


growing from a blackhole in my mind

by colormemotional



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Age Difference, First Meetings, Gen, M/M, Post-Stripper!Lafayette???, Stripper!Lafayette, Undecided Relationship(s), Washette - Freeform, Wealthy Politican!George, age gap, but not illegal, or um, serious w the age gap shit guys its p big
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 11:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12320577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colormemotional/pseuds/colormemotional
Summary: “I have a proposal.”“A proposal of what?” Laf eyed him.The man adjusted the coat to drape it over his shoulder. “Of a way to earn some money, if you’ll agree to it.”





	growing from a blackhole in my mind

**Author's Note:**

> fucking shit dudes, its been awhile. 
> 
> wrote this during the summer but couldn't post it until now, sadly. I'm only in my first year of French, the reason why this lacks a lot of the language
> 
> title and some of the speech in this are from Garden by Halsey. more halsey song themed fics to come if I keep myself interested long enough.

_ “Darlin’, what’s it coming to?”  _

__ _ Lafayette looked up from the cracked black top of the alleyway, fumbling his hands in his empty pockets. He was met with the gaze of a man a few inches taller than him, broad shouldered and looking out of place in the dirty alcove between the buildings, dressed up in a sharp navy blue suit, jacket under his arm. His face was not a smile, but it wasn’t a frown either. Somewhere in the middle. Lafayette tensed.  _

_ He racked his brain for a reply- picking the little English he knew out of his native French. Turning his face more into the light, he saw that the man had crow’s feet imprinted in the fold of his eyes. Older. His presence felt dominating, like he was much wiser than anyone else in the room. Lafayette stuttered his best English in reply.  _

_ “Excuse me?”  _

_ The man took a few steps closer to him and leaned against the musty wall. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, an expensive kind of Camels, and searched through his other pocket for a lighter. Lafayette’s eyes never left him. _

_ After some more fruitless searching, the man held out the tip of his cigarette out at Lafayette. “Do you got a light on you?”  _

_ The younger man fiddled his fingers around in his jean pockets. When he spoke, his English was slow, unsure. “I do not smoke.” The older man shrugged, tucked the cigarette back into his pocket. He silently kept leaning against the wall. Lafayette began speaking again, feeling awkward even though he had been the first person here. “Why are you talking to me?” _

_ The man didn’t do anything. “Aren’t you the one that just got fired back in there?”  _

_ Lafayette remembered the scene from a few minutes before, cringing. He had gotten angry, yelled at a patron, and someone had called the manager. Of course, the man who he’d yelled at had gotten away with it. He couldn’t help to start to feel like he was buzzing again, anger and frustration filling his mind. Mr Adams knew he wouldn’t have acted out unless someone was actually bothering him, touching him in the wrong places. Strippers have morals too, goddamnit.  _

_ “Yes.” Lafayette simply replied. He breathed slowly, calming himself. The man next to him stood to his full height, taking his weight off of the old brick of the wall. He faced Lafayette again, the angles of his face catching the light. He looked to be a good natured man. Laf was having a hard time appreciating that, though, with how bad other men had been treating him lately. This guy was definitely stronger than him and he was ready to skip out of here the second things took a turn for the worst. Go find Peggy, ask if he could crash at her apartment for the night.   _

_ “I have a proposal.”  _

_ “A proposal of what?” Laf eyed him.  _

_ The man adjusted the coat to drape it over his shoulder. “Of a way to earn some money, if you’ll agree to it.”  _

Lafayette remembered that night clear as yesterday, maybe even moreso. It seemed a lot more sketchy than it did at the time, but he told himself there was no need to worry about it now. Kept thinking that it was for the best; better than being an immigrant who barely knew English homeless and jobless on the unforgiving streets of New York. 

Most people would criticize his life now. Think there was something more going on between George and him other than a business deal(which there is, just not in the way everyone seems to think) and say it was pretty concerning. An attractive young man like him living with a recently divorced, forty-something year old politician. Yeah, he could understand that. He could hear his grand- _ mère _ , smacking him upside the head and bickering at him in quick-sharp French distantly.

Here was the thing: George Washington was lonely. No kids, wife gone, most friends in different states or countries. He never found companionship easily, or never had enough time for it. So Lafayette became a ‘friend’. In exchange for someone to talk to, tell his jokes to, go to a bar or just order a pizza with, George gave Laf a place to stay, bought him clothes, food, a phone. Anything he needed, and it was his. That was how the relationship worked. If Laf didn’t feel safe, or didn’t want to stay with him, he was even given the choice to have his own apartment and only come by when he wanted to. George was nice, he was, albeit a little awkward, a gentleman and only looked out for Lafayette’s best interest. Gave him space, let him drive his other car instead of using the subway if he wanted to, never over stepped boundaries. 

Just for a friend. 

And Lafayette knew he didn’t have to actually be interested in George. He knew he shouldn’t get into the man’s personal life, shouldn’t actually try to get attached, because that’s when things would start getting complicated. So naturally, he did anyways. 

It was little things at first. Just admiring how well-rounded George was. How he had good discipline and worked efficiently. Lafayette found out he used to be in the military, earning himself a high ranking before he left to invest himself in politics. Even now, the man kept himself in impeccable shape; jogging in the mornings and going to the gym on Sundays. He ate well, and often shamed Lafayette jokingly for the terrible diet he’d grown into since moving to the states. Lafayette was enchanted with George’s stability, something he hadn’t had much of in his life since his early teens. 

It was hard to remember that George smoked. With the way he took care of himself, Lafayette guessed he didn’t do it much. Though, there would be times where he’d greet the older man with a hug and he’d smell the warm odor of expensive tobacco and long gone smoke adorning his skin like another layer. Lafayette tried not to think of those times. He had never really liked tobacco, it always made him think of _ père  _ when he was diagnosed with lung cancer, or Adrienne when she would steal her  _ tante’s _ cigars and smoke them on the rooftop during the summer months despite her asthma. The sting of the smoke itself, full of chemicals, when it got in his eyes and breathed into his lungs. 

Lafayette guessed he fell in love with George at some point, maybe during the winter or maybe during that one night they played chess together and George told him about growing up in Virginia. It could have been in the spring when they first met; when Lafayette would lock his door every night until he felt safe and George never said anything about it. All Laf knew, was that he had a true admiration for the man, despite their differences, and he hoped George felt the same way. 


End file.
